


Impressions

by Combination_NC



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle of Ostagar, Beard Porn, Beards, Chess porn, Dragon Age Prompt Generator, Electricity trick, Grey Wardens, M/M, Mage Rules Chess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-20
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Combination_NC/pseuds/Combination_NC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karl ends up at Ostagar (because the prompt generator wills it), and finds the Grey Wardens something to consider. That Commander is looking pretty fine, what with his splendid beard and all. They better have better hats than the Circle though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> This part is written for the sweet djkaeru over on tumblr. She found the prompt "Karl, Cailan, Not the first time nor the last" with the prompt generator and found it interesting, and I took it on! And added Duncan because beards are GLORIOUS, as Cailan would put it.

It was rare for a mage to be let out of the tower and thus an event to be treasured, and while Karl had dearly wished to be out of it he would have liked it to be under different circumstances. **  
** Not like this, during a Blight to be sent to aid the King’s army. Not having to travel through strangely desolate landscape towards a waiting battlefield that he might or might not return from alive. **  
  
** And if he  _did_  survive it, they would only put him back in the tower like a tool returned to storage, as if that was all he was in their eyes, and all he would ever be allowed to be. This was not the first time that mages had been allowed outside the walls of the Circle to be used and treated as nothing more human or elven weapons, and it would not be the last. **  
  
** Karl sighed. He could always join the Grey Wardens, he supposed – that Duncan fellow had been eyeing him with an  _interest_  that went beyond simple appreciation for a fellow well-groomed beard, so perhaps he viewed him as possible Warden material. He would still be considered a living weapon in that order, but possibly not more so than any other warden, and at least he would be allowed  _outside_. And hopefully the Wardens would not insist on outfitting their mages with such ridicilous hats as the Circle did. **  
  
** The ones that went with the standard robes were quite frankly  _embarrassing_ , and Karl simply refused to wear them, beneficial enchantments or not. He had given up on the robes as well; if he was to be sent to the front lines of an epic battle, it would not be in a skirt but proper armour. Enchanted fabric was all well and good, but if he was going to be anywhere near darkspawn he much preferred to have something sturdier than simple cloth to protect him. Duncan had seemed to  _approve_  of his demands and Karl had been outfitted in leather armour meant for a rogue, anything heavier available being too heavy for someone who usually kept to walking up and down stairs while carrying books as means of exercise. **  
  
** That, and… some other, more frivioulus activities, of course. **  
  
** But there was to be none of that to be had here in the army’s camp. It was a place of preparation of a different kind, where the graveness of their situation hung thick in the air. Karl spoke little with anyone but Wynne or Duncan, who seemed like a practical man. They had discussed the usefulness of magic and what an absolute  _waste_  it was to lock mages up in Circles instead of letting them put their talents to purposeful use. The more they talked, the more joining the Wardens seemed like a viable option. He knew full well that Duncan could simply conscript him if he so wished, but Karl suspected that he wanted him to  _want_ it for himself. It made him think of Anders, who had always been much better at that  _wanting_ part than he. He had worried for him more than usual during this escape, but it made an amount of tactical sense to be on the run during a Blight. It  _was_  very distracting, he had to give it that. And frying a few darkspawn would probably do Anders good, get rid of some of that excess energy he tended to have in abundance. **  
  
** When Cailan, their king, came to greet Duncan, it had been necessary for Karl to fight back the urge to smile. He would never tell Anders the king had reminded him of him if they met again; he would only let it go to his head. But his enthusiasm brought so much of Anders to mind that Karl had been able to forget the impending battle for a while.


	2. Second Impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was Duncan Week on tumblr. Character week happens, character gets laid. This is how it works. Also, a surprisingly large amount of people longed for some _beard porn._

Karl leaned back against the old stone wall, made so different from the ones in the tower simply due to him being on the outside of them for once. He tried to not look too closely at the young man before him, unsure of where it would be proper to rest his eyes. He had to remind himself that this was their King, a person to respect and perhaps be in awe of, that his enthusiasm for fighting darkspawn ought to be regarded as  _bravery_ ; he should be thought of as a warrior king and not a foolish youth playing soldier for his own amusement.

It was difficult, however, to regard him with the proper amount of respect when he practically _beamed_  and spoke of glory as he did.

“So! A battle mage called to defend our homeland, to crush our unholy enemies with your dangerous powers! Glorious, is it not?” Cailan beamed at him  _again_.

Karl did not feel particularly glorious. While wearing trousers and proper armour made to survive battle in made sense from a self preservation angle, the actually  _wearing_  them part was… uncomfortable. The leather armour chafed and smelled somewhat strange after a day in the sun, the trousers were not as great as the soldiers would have him believe, and during one undignified moment he had almost managed to stab himself with the end of his newly assigned staff, designed for a combat style that would put him much closer to the enemy than he would have liked. He wanted to sigh, deeply, but had to keep up appearances.

“Simply fulfilling my duty as a Circle mage, Your Majesty,” he said, keeping his voice level. Being let out of the tower only to be thrown in the vague direction of some monsters was not his idea of glory; not that he had entertained many thoughts of glory before.

“What is that like, anyway? Exciting? All that power!”

Karl blinked. “I… live locked up in a tower. So rather dull, I must say. Your Majesty.”

Cailan -  _The King_ , Karl reminded himself sternly, seemed a bit at loss for words after that, and in need of hearing something a tad more cheerful.

“My friend attempted to grow his hair out to have a braid long enough for a rescuer to climb up it, like a maiden in a story. Not a very well thought out plan, if you ask me - any rescuer would be just as stuck as the mage.”

“There are not… many escapees, are there?” Cailan sounded a slight bit concerned.

“Oh no, we are surrounded by a lake,” Karl ensured him, “and he only managed to get it to about shoulder length. It was not a very well planned attempt.”

He refrained from mentioning that Anders had gotten himself out anyhow, and who else he considered as having not very well thought out plans. You were supposed to trust and follow your King without questioning him, no matter what.

Still, he was relieved when Duncan found them and took him off his hands.

“Do you… have a spare moment, later?” Karl asked Duncan as he turned to leave. “I have some… questions about the Wardens.”

Duncan seemed pleased. “Of course. My tent, after supper.”

 

It was a much nicer tent than the one the mages were housed in, of course; not as extravagant as he might have imagined a tent belonging to someone with a title like Commander of the Grey, but suitable for a Duncan. Practical. Sparse. Tidy bedding, a closed chest, foldable chairs next to a small table that must be as well, covered with maps.

“Having one of these would make morning routines easier to manage. Trimming your beard in the midst of ten others is a bit of a challenge at times.”

Duncan gave a slight smile. “Yet you manage it well.”

Karl returned it, hesitantly, scratching his ear and trying to decipher what such a smile meant outside the Circle Tower. A friendly compliment, or an invitation?

“Not as well as some others,” he tried, feeling too bashful for his age. Something peeking out from under the maps caught his eye; a welcome distraction. “Is that a… chessboard?”

Duncan’s eyes followed the path of Karl’s own. “Yes. You play?”

He nodded. “Not much to do in the tower besides research and pursuing little hobbies.” He had been there enough years to have developed a respectable skill for it, enough to beat even Niall at times.

“Would you care for a game over our discussion, or would you prefer to not be reminded of Circle-related activities?” He gestured towards the board, and began to unearth it when Karl nodded a yes.

“Reminding me of what I could get away from might be to your advantage,” he smiled.

Sitting down in front of the pieces, well worn and chipped in places made him smile for other reasons; his games with Niall held a very different meaning.

“Not all bad things, then?” Duncan asked, nodding at him.

“Not all of them, no,” Karl admitted. “One of my chess partners really knows how to spice up a game,” he continued, smile turning slightly wicked at the memories.

“Spice up chess?” Duncan seemed intrigued, eyes on his lips.

“We played for tokens. The winner got… a prize of his choosing.”

Duncan leaned forwards; a little bit  _closer_. “And you chose…?”

Karl hesitated for a moment before shrugging his doubt off. “Oh, depending on the mood, bending him over the chess table, having him bend  _me_  over the chess table, things like that…” He trailed off, uncertain on how to continue.

Duncan decided for him with a rather wicked smile of his own. “Let us play, then, as you do in the Circle.”

Oh, Karl  _liked_  that smile.

The moving of the pieces and the conversation mattered less than the conclusion; both merely formalities at this point.

“Perks?”

“You get paid. Since you are a mage, simply being allowed outside should count.”

Karl nodded. “Drawbacks?”

“Fighting darkspawn.”

“Hmm. Anything else I ought to know?”

Duncan flipped the white king over. “I admit defeat.”

“Oh,  _really?_ ”

A nod, an amused smile. “Do with me as you will.”

Karl rose, beckoning for Duncan to do the same before edging closer, gripping one of his belts in each hand and pulling the man towards him, close enough to have their beards brush together, the contact causing him to shiver. He kissed him, then; not softly but with the force of someone who thought they might have met their match and wished to see whether it was so or not. The way the kiss was returned was as much a yes as anything; demanding rather than eager, biting at Karl’s lower lip as he started to unbuckle his still unfamiliar armour.

“Robes do have an advantage, there,” Karl breathed against the corner of Duncan’s lips as they broke the kiss, Karl already halfway through undressing him. “Much easier access.”

“People usually have a bit more trouble with those,” Duncan commented as his belts fell to the floor.

Karl chuckled in fond amusement at the memories of dark blue Tevinter robes. “I have seen more complicated getups,” he admitted before seizing Duncan’s head with both hands, burying his fingers in his beard, carefully stroking through it with his thumbs, enjoying the feel of the coarse hair against his skin before pressing his lips against the bearded chin.

“A beard man, then,” Duncan murmured as the kiss turned open mouthed, the urge to try it at least once all but impossible to resist.

“Why else grow one?” Karl chuckled against the coarse hair. “Were I allowed my own mirror, I might never leave it.”

“Wardens… usually have access to one, but…” Duncan swallowed, distracted by Karl’s hands removing yet another piece of his clothing and then cupping him through what little remained. “I am not sure you should if… that is the case.” He worked at Karl’s laces, panting. “What use would we have of you, then?”

Karl laughed, teasing him with hands tingling with electricity. “Oh, you could have  _many_.” He smiled a challenge at Duncan’s gasps, and as he tried to collect himself Karl rid himself of his last pieces of clothing.

“That was a sample, then?” Duncan asked as he stepped out of his own, hands shaking slightly.

“I could provide more,” came the answer, followed by a rough kiss and rougher hands, thread through hair and gripping at flesh. He pushed him towards the bedding with the force of his continued kisses as well as the strength of his arms and straddled him after he went down on his back.

“Enough mages in the Wardens to be familiar with the grease spell?” He asked as he called upon his magic, coating his hand with grease.

“Never seen it used in battle.”

“We mages  _do_  have our priorities in order,” Karl agreed as he coated Duncan’s fingers as well, before leaning down for yet another kiss; open mouthed and inviting. “Fingers,” he murmured a reminder as their lips broke apart, beards brushing against each other instead.

“Greedy,” Duncan commented as he let his fingers ready Karl, one by one.

“As I said… Priorities,” Karl panted, adjusting to the welcome intrusion, the altering pressure, the careful, teasing curling of fingers inside him. He let his left elbow carry his weight as he reached down to rub them both together, all while breathing heavily into the side of Duncan’s neck, the sensation of his beard tickling him an unfamiliar but pleasant one. 

“Now,” he demanded, another spell making sure Duncan was slick enough.

“I am usually the one giving orders,” Duncan said while carefully guiding Karl into position.

“You are not my… commander, yet,” Karl reminded him as he eased down, little by little.

“Yet?”

“I will see if it looks to be… worth my while.” Another pant, upon pant. 

They moaned in unison as Karl rocked on top of him, trying to keep his own sounds down out of years of habit and Duncan urging him to break it by digging his hands into him, pressing the moans out of him, pleasure finally given voice after years and stone walls keeping them in silence, no thoughts spared for the thin tent that left nothing secret.

No one would walk in on them here; the mere thought of it, the guarantee to not be disturbed despite their obvious sounds of pleasure, of wordless voices and the sound of flesh against flesh, of bodies locked together, made his head spin. He could get used to this; to the relative privacy of a Commander’s tent, of having said Commander underneath and inside him, driving him as well as himself closer to completion with each thrust and stroke.

When they had both arrived at it, not in unison but close enough, Karl slumped over him, pressing his bearded cheek against Duncan’s, breathing in the smell of him, one hand continuing to explore what he had not already; more firm muscles, more battle-scarred flesh.

“That… sure was one fine sample,” Duncan murmured as he stroked Karl’s back with one hand, letting the other rest firmly lower down.

“A taste of Circle mage life. Would Warden life have more to offer?” 

He lifted his head to kiss the edges of Duncan’s beard, lips tingling as his hands had before, beckoning, teasing.

“Oh, yes.” Duncan sighed at the touch, welcoming. “But there is the Joining. You might not pass it. Not everyone does.”

“If I do not, will I get eaten by a demon, or have my head chopped off by a templar?”

Duncan laughed at what he mistakenly believed to be a joke, a short, low sound. “No, not at all.”

“Well then. I should be able to manage. Now, since you knew of the grease spell, surely you must have encountered the rejuvenation one as well?”

Karl  _definitely_  liked the smile he flashed him then. “Oh, never in  _battle_ …”


End file.
